Dead End Street
by The Scarlett Ribbon
Summary: It's been seven years since the Akatsuki took over, but in the dark underbelly of Konoha's criminal underworld a silent war is still raging. As the heirs of the city's fallen leaders are picked off one by one in a bloody rebellion, Uchiha Sasuke returns with vengeance in his heart for the one who betrayed his family. SasuSaku, mobster!AU
1. we'll paint it red, we'll fit right in

**title: Dead End Street **

**chapter title: we'll paint it red, we'll fit right in**

**summary: It's been seven years since the Akatsuki took over, but in the dark underbelly of Konoha's criminal underworld a silent war is still raging. As the heirs of the city's fallen leaders are picked off one by one in a bloody rebellion, Uchiha Sasuke returns with vengeance in his heart for the one who betrayed his family. SasuSaku, mobster!AU**

**dedication: Les, my darling marzipan. I hope you approve. **

* * *

_Dead End Street _

* * *

_Tap, tap, tap. _

Her fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel, eyes flicking between the door on its hinges and the clock, its glowing, incandescent digits.

Two minutes had already passed and their window allowed only for five.

"Come on," Sakura murmured, her stomach an anxious knot. The waiting was always the worst part, but there had been no gunshots yet. The night was still and quiet, and all she could hear was her own throbbing heartbeat. It took everything she had not to reach for the heavy gun in the glove compartment.

Instead she started counting backwards from ten, eyes glued to the light spilling out across the deserted car park from the open door.

_Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five –_

A loud bang rent the air apart, followed by three more in quick succession.

"Shit!" She flung the passenger door open as a silhouette rippled across the light and then someone was running, _running _and she was turning the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life.

Naruto barrelled into the car as she threw it into reverse and swung around, tyres screeching.

He slammed the door shut as she gunned it out of the car park and his bag was slung across the back seat.

"H-hey Sakura-chan…"

Streetlights flickered over them in staccato motion, orange light and then dark, as she sped down the street, away from the pawn shop. The car already smelt of blood and she could see the dark, wet stain spreading on the seat behind him from the corner of her eye.

"You stupid fuck," she growled, slamming her foot down and shooting through a red light. He only laughed and flicked the radio on, knowing her almost better than she did herself. Kiba had fixed the frequency so it would tune in to Konoha's corrupt and significantly diminished police force. The static crackled for a moment.

"…reported robbery at the pawn shop on 74th Street…two dead…suspect fled…"

"Shit," she repeated, as Naruto slumped in his seat with a wild smile, teeth glinting in the passing light. Under his gold hair he was pale as milk.

She hit him with a gloved fist and the wet rattle that spewed out his mouth was probably laughter.

"Stay awake!"

"…'kashi's gonna kill me," he groaned, bleeding out on the passenger seat. Somewhere, a few blocks away maybe, the sound of sirens start up and Sakura curses the day that the Uchiha were all slaughtered in their own home; the day that justice in Konoha died.

"Not if I kill you first, idiot." She sped through the streets, dodging cars and traffic lights, flying across junctions when she should have stopped. She didn't even need to think about driving anymore. Every move she made was instinctive, ingrained in her bones. This – this was what she did best. Sakura could outrace, outwit them all, even in a crackpot of shit like the car she was driving. Shit on the outside, anyway. That was the point. Get away drivers weren't supposed to be flashy.

"Fuck! Sak…behind us…"

"I've seen it," she snapped, slamming her foot down again and putting as much distance as she could between them and the police car that just appeared in her wing mirror. A deft twist of the steering wheel and she'd cut through an intersection and another three red lights, losing the cops trail as she zoomed down a narrow back alley and emerged on a parallel road.

Naruto laughed again, pained and exhilarated, fading fast. "You think it's gonna leave a scar?"

"Shut up," Sakura slammed her foot down on the accelerator for the fifth time that night and _drove. _He was not going to dying on her, she wouldn't let him.

She couldn't lose anyone else.

* * *

A slow death for Kabuto would have been much more satisfying, he thought. Instead he shot his brain out and watched it paint the walls of the office a deep, violent red.

"_Fuck," _the girl hissed, as the man's body sagged bonelessly against her – dead weight. Before the body guards stationed by the door had time to react, Sasuke had turned and fired at them, a shot each, one through the chest and the other through the neck. They dropped like flies and the girl was still screaming as he turned to face her.

The terror in her eyes as she looked up at him reminded him of a night, eight years ago, when there was no moon and a figure stood over him, surrounded by the bodies of Sasuke's family. He lowered the gun.

"Jesus shit," she hissed, shoving Kabuto's corpse off her and staggering to her feet. "You – you killed the bastard."

"Put some clothes on," Sasuke said. The bruises on her skin were off putting and he didn't want to look at them any longer than he had to. There was blood on her face, in her red hair.

She scowled at him, reaching for a thin bathrobe and holding it closed against her throat. "He'll come for you now, you know. Orochimaru. He'll hunt you like a dog. And me."

He scoffed, unconcerned. There were bigger fish to fry than Oto.

"I got what I wanted," he said, moving to the desk now and rifling through the papers. "Be glad I intervened. You'd be dead if I hadn't."

She swallowed, searching on the floor for something. When she straightened, there was a pair of crackled glasses in her hands, which she pushed up to the bridge of her nose.

"Maybe I would have killed him first."

He raked his eyes over her once, the high heels, the scant clothing. "Unless you're hiding a knife in your shoes, I doubt it."

She smiled once, razor sharp and snapped the heel off one shoe. Inside, he saw, was a small, thin blade clearly designed for slashing throats. "I've spent some time around dangerous men, pretty boy."

"You're a spy."

"Maybe. Maybe I'm just a whore who knew too much," she replied, but he knew she was lying.

"What's your name?"

"It might be Kushina."

He was ever aware of the gun in his hand, and so was she. He didn't need to point it at her to make her feel threatened. He was good at that, after all. He'd survived three years in this hell hole.

"And who were you spying on, Kushina?"

She licked her lips, leaning against the desk and revealing a long glimpse of pale thigh. "A more accurate question might be to ask whoI was spying _for_."

He didn't take the bait, only stared at her in silence and waited. A coy smile curved her lips as she looked away and he wondered, briefly, how much of that was a mask meant to draw him in.

"They call him the Puppet Master."

Instantly, he went utterly and entirely still. As if sensing that she had his undivided attention, the girl who called herself Kushina crossed her ankles delicately and reached down to extract the cigar from Kabuto's breast pocket. Her hands were shaking.

"Got a light?"

Sasuke obliged her, watching her every move with the still eyes of a hawk. Kushina inhaled and exhaled, smoke rolling in gently spirals from her pretty pink lips.

"You're from Konoha," he said at last, when it became apparent she wasn't going to spill all her secrets to him. Clever girl.

She smiled, but it was thin and fragile. "So are you, pretty boy. I know who you are."

He pressed the barrel of the gun against her temple, a silent warning. The rapid pulse in her exposed throat was clearly visible.

"Ask me," she said. "Go on. Ask me to lead you to Akatsuki."

"I'm not asking," Sasuke hissed against her earlobe, hand holding the gun steady.

Slowly, leisurely, she drew the cigar away from her mouth. The next thing he knew, there was smoke in his eyes and a hand knocking his wrist away from her head.

When he finally managed to wrench his stinging eyes open, his wrist was bleeding sluggishly and Kushina had a gun of her own pointed at his head.

"Don't think I won't blow your motherfucking head off," she told him, tossing the cigar to the floor and snuffing it out with the toe of a stilettoed foot. Her aim was steady, eyes still and alert behind the lenses of her glasses. A stalemate, then.

Sasuke lowered the gun and eyed the body on the floor distastefully after a pregnant pause.

"You certainly know how to make a mess."

In his mind he saw the ghosts of everyone he once loved lying on the floors of the Uchiha Corps building, drowning in their own blood. He remembered screams and moonlight flitting through the crack of the door he trembled behind, hands over his ears to muffle the gunshots in his father's office.

"You're from Konoha," Sasuke repeated, wondering if she knew what he saw when he looked down at Kabuto's messy corpse.

"It's a shithole," she said, breathing hard. "You haven't been there since it fell, have you, pretty boy? You were lucky enough to get out. You didn't have to watch the empire fall."

"Take me to the Puppet Master," Sasuke told her, "And you can get out right after. Leave it behind."

Kushina laughed once, brittle and sharp, a gleam of white teeth and smudged lipstick. Her aim never wavered. "You don't get it, do you? There is no getting out for people like us."

The tragic part, he thought, was that he understood all too well. Hell didn't spit its victims out, it swallowed them whole and sucked the marrow down, blood and bones and screams. There was no getting out alive.

"I'll give you a name, pretty boy. And that's all."

"S'pose I can't blame you for that."

Kushina started backing towards the door, still pointing the barrel of the gun directly at the space where his heart was. "Haruno Sakura."

She was almost out the door when he asked, "Who are you? Really?"

The girl who called herself Kushina gave him a sad smile, soft and doomed. He thought of his mother. He thought of a little girl whose face and name he could no longer recall. "Just a dead girl, Uchiha Sasuke."

She was gone before he could say anything else.

* * *

She hit speedial as they roared onto the freeway, heading downtown in a black blur. Kiba picked up on the third ring, his lazy drawl interrupting the silence in the car.

"S'up babe?"

"I need you to meet us."

He laughed once, reckless and intimate. She could picture his shit-eating grin down the line. "Cops on your trail, Sakura-chan?"

Maybe quarter of a mile behind them, the sirens were still screaming and Naruto was slumped in his seat, milk white and barely responsive. All she could smell was blood.

"Naruto's down and I have to ditch the car, fast."

"Kakashi's out," Kiba said, growing more serious. "He'll get there faster than I can."

As far as she knew, Kakashi was supposed to be on a job all night – but she took what she could get.

"Get him on the line. I'm heading for the stadium, there's a match just finishing up."

The sirens were getting closer – she swerved from lane to lane, her foot pressed flat against the accelerator.

"…Sakura-chan…."

Wordlessly, Sakura reached out and squeezed his hand. Orange lights flickered over them and somewhere nearby she could hear a helicopter approaching.

"_Shit." _

Spotlights were the last thing she needed; if the helicopter locked onto them they were screwed.

Kiba's voice suddenly crackled down the line. "He'll meet you on 2nd Street. White van with tinted windows."

"Thanks." She sped towards her exit, dodging around cars and putting more distance between themselves and the cops on their trail. "Tell him to hurry."

There was a pause as Naruto groaned, though whether from pain or despair she couldn't tell.

"Sakura?" Kiba asked, all the laughter gone from his voice now. He sounded like the scared twelve year old she first knew, who would share cigarettes with her and Ino under the stairs when no one was looking.

She shut her eyes for the briefest of moments, grief of her own threatening to choke her when she most needed to be strong.

"I need Tsunade to prep the back room," she said, trying to delay the moment she would have to acknowledge their failure. "He's losing a lot of blood."

"Sakura, _did you find her_?"

The world turned beneath the wheels, and Sakura felt like they could almost be flying. Except –

"No," she murmured, hating everything as the line crackled and went dead.

_tbc_

* * *

**notes: there isn't much in my life that watching **_**New Girl **_**can't fix. **

**notes2: writing fanfiction in lectures in not a good use of my time but hey presto, it seems to happen a lot.**

**notes3: I know I'm supposed to be updating **_**Divergence **_**but it's amazing how many times writers block has punched me in the face with that one. I'm working on it?**

**Bitches be bold and review**


	2. let the only sound be the overflow

**chapter title: let the only sound be the overflow**

**summary: It's been seven years since the Akatsuki took over, but in the dark underbelly of Konoha's criminal underworld a silent war is still raging. As the heirs of the city's fallen leaders are picked off one by one in a bloody rebellion, Uchiha Sasuke returns with vengeance in his heart for the one who betrayed his family. SasuSaku, mobster!AU**

**dedication: JinnySkeans, because **_**damn **_**gurl, your reviews always leave this bitch blushin. **

* * *

_Dead End Street_

* * *

_Eight years ago_

It was the grandest, most glamorous party he'd ever been to – and as the second son of the chief of police, Sasuke had been to a lot of parties. White lights hung everywhere, strung up between the buildings leading up South Street towards the Mayor's house, and from the tall trees which lined the vast garden. There were white flowers everywhere, too; white roses, white lilies, white orchids. The air smelt sweeter than he'd ever known it, erasing the sulphuric scent which sometimes lingered over the city on its hottest summer nights.

Unfortunately, Sasuke had been unable to enjoy any of it. He'd lost his brother immediately upon arrival, and his parents had been quick to vanish among the throng of important, smartly-dressed adults, leaving him to fend for himself.

Bored, and feeling increasingly awkward, he'd sulked under one of the tables in the hall where they were later to dine, with the mayor's idiot son. Together, they watched many hundreds of pairs of legs slink past, and pinched food from the tables. Sometimes they even threw it at people, including Naruto's cousin.

"I spent ages picking out a dress!" Karin yelled at them, right before she burst into tears. Looking at the ugly tomato stain on her blue dress, Sasuke had felt bad, especially as Itachi recently told him that girls liked to look pretty at parties.

That was when Naruto had suggested playing sardines.

It had been a good idea, at the time. They found all the other kids – some Sasuke already knew through his parents. Shikamaru was a familiar face, and the Hyuuga cousins, as well. There were two other girls he didn't know, one loud and confident, the other quieter and prone to turning red whenever he looked at her.

"You're the hider, Hinata-chan! The rest of us will find you!"

They all waited outside on the patio, fidgeting as they counted to a hundred, and then split up at a run.

Naruto ran off with a war cry, his shirt untucked. Sasuke thought him being a hunter in his own house was cheating – _of course_ he would know all the best hiding places.

It felt like he spent hours wandering the Namikaze's huge mansion alone, looking for the sardine. He was sure everyone else had found Hinata now, and they were all hiding together, giggling, every time he passed them.

"Stupid game," he muttered, scuffing his shoe against the floor. How could he be the last person to find the hiding place? Uchiha didn't lose. And besides, he was starting to get hungry again.

_Creak. _

He froze, listening keenly. It sounded like…

_Creak creak. _

The noise came again, and this time Sasuke was certain it came from the room to his left. Triumphantly, he seized the handle and threw door open, only to find himself in a lavishly decorated office, with a conjoining room. There were books everywhere, and the windows gave off a phenomenal view of the party on the lawn below; though the room was dark, the glow of the outside lanterns illuminated the desk, and the cupboard door next to it.

Walking up to the unlatched door, he asked, "Are you the sardine?"

"Yes," whispered back two soft voices, and he opened the cupboard door grinning. So he _wasn't _the last one, after all; it was only Hinata Hyuuga and the shy girl inside.

"Pull the door shut properly," the latter whispered, wide-eyed. Sasuke raised his eyebrows; hadn't she ever read _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe?_ He distinctly remembered something about not shutting yourself in small spaces.

He was just opening his mouth to politely inform her of this fact, when they heard voices nearby. And not the voices of their friends.

Hands seized his shirt and hauled him inside, both girls looking terrified as they crouched in furthest corner of the dark space.

"We're not supposed to be in here, are we?" he whispered, and the girls shook their heads mutely.

"T-this is Minato-sama's s-study," Hinata stuttered, but then they could say no more as the door to the office opened and several people entered.

"…becoming more and more of a problem."

Footsteps pacing, the scrape of a chair against the floorboards. Sasuke hardly dared to breathe.

"Are you saying these people are a threat?"

Next to him, the shy girl stiffened suddenly, her eyes going wide with surprise.

_Your father?_ Sasuke mouthed at her, and she nodded, holding tightly to Hinata's hand.

"We have linked them to a number of unpleasant…incidents, in recent months. We haven't yet been able to identify all the members, or the leader, but we believe this man is responsible for Jiraiya's murder last month."

It was Sasuke's turn to jolt – the man speaking was definitely his father! If he was found in here, he would be in trouble for _weeks. _Dread curled in his stomach; without looking, he reached out and took the shy girl's other hand.

"You're sure?" Minato asked.

"There were two witnesses. They gunned him down in the street, as you know. It was very public, yes, but not messy. Jiraiya was a powerful man. This was a message."

"But to whom, is the question."

"Minato-sama…" his father paused, uncharacteristically. "I don't think it was meant for a specific individual."

"Then who was it meant for?" another voice asked.

"Konoha."

Someone shifted their weight from foot to foot. Sasuke had no idea what they were talking about, but it sounded bad. He regretted this game more and more, certain that he was hearing things that definitely weren't meant for his ears.

"It's a warning," Minato said, sounding infinitely weary. "To me, to the Great Houses of this city. They are coming for everything we hold dear.

Ignoring the frantic look the girls gave him, Sasuke untangled himself and crept forward until he could see through the tiny crack in the door. Four men stood in the darkened office, including his own father. He could not make out their expressions.

"We need to close ranks," his father said quietly. "They will try to dismantle us one by one, but if we stay strong, if we hold together –"

Something pale caught his eye – a reflection on one of the glass cabinets. For one startled heartbeat, Sasuke saw Itachi's face in the glass, expression pensive, from where he was listening in the conjoining room.

* * *

_Now_

* * *

She was going to ditch the car in the stadium car park and blend into the crowd of pedestrians beginning to emerge from the game, but that was before Akatsuki joined the chase.

"Motherfucker," Naruto groaned, struggling to sit up with a medley of bullets riddled in his side. "S'at Hidan?"

"His whole crew," she replied tightly, dodging between cars in an attempt to put some distance between them. "No one else has a paint job that flashy."

All she could see in the rear view mirror was three sets of blinding headlight, gaining ground fast.

"_Fuck._"

She grinned humourlessly, slamming her foot down on the accelerator as far as it would go and swerving into the middle lane. "I can drive faster than they can shoot."

Behind them, there was a smashing sound and Sakura flicked her eyes to the wing mirror in time to see a grey Toyota flipping over in midair, one of Hidan's red Audi's coming out of the collision with barely a scratch.

"I hate these bastards," he said, milk-white and bleeding out. There was a gun in his hand. "That was a civilian vehicle!"

"And they'll total more if I don't get off the freeway soon."

She sensed the grim look he gave her, unsteady hands shaking around the weapon in his hand. Their time and their options were quickly running out. Hidan was beyond pissed; the Akatsuki were generally more…discrete that this.

"You really did a number on them, huh?" she asked, thinking hard. If she remembered right, there was a train passing under junction twelve in about five minutes, the 23.07 to Oto…

"I made it hurt," Naruto promised darkly, vengeance crying deep down in his blood, a threat that made her shiver.

She thought of Hinata, of her wide doe eyes, and pale skin, the way she looked at Naruto like he was the sun. She thought of her in a dark room somewhere, blindfolded and helpless.

"We'll find her, Naruto." _But first we've gotta get out of this thing alive. _"How'd you feel about heights?"

He looked at her, loaded the gun, and opened the passenger window. "You got a plan you feel like sharing?" he asked, leaning out, taking aim and letting loose. The rattle of gunfire was cold and familiar in her ears. "Be more specific."

Bullets exploded through the back windscreen, punching holes through the glass and making them both duck lower in their seats.

"Your aim is off."

He looked at her flatly, somehow managing to be distinctly unimpressed and exhausted all at the same time. "_Sakura._"

"Specifically," she said, ducking into the dangerously narrow space between two parallel trucks, knowing Hidan's crew could not immediately follow. "How do you feel about jumping from them?"

The wicked grin on his face was one she knew intimately; that look he got when he was at his most reckless. Nobody could say Naruto didn't take risks, even when he was dying.

Especially when he was dying.

"Hell yeah," he coughed a little, spitting up blood between his perfect white teeth. "Let's do this thing."

The phone rang suddenly, barely discernible above the sharp whistle of wind in her ears, but Kakashi's voice was clear as always once she put him on speakerphone.

"I see you've got a rat on your tail, Sakura-chan."

"Three rats," she bit out, swerving violently to get around a bus. Naruto fired another shot, his hand shaking with exertion. "Where are you?"

"About half a mile back, and closing."

"Get outta here," she said, ducking as another bullet grazed her wing mirror. "Once they lose us, they'll only start chasing you."

"Kiba said Naruto was hurt."

The blond flicked an irritated look over his shoulder. "S'barely a flesh wound."

She would have hit him if she wasn't concentrating so hard – and if he didn't have gunshot wounds in his side.

"We're gonna ditch the car. I need you to get into position and pick us up."

She could feel their old mentor smiling down the line, a smile as grim as cigarette smoke and the sticky surface of a nightclub floor. "That's risky."

"Yeah, well, it's either ditch or die so…"

A pause. Then, "Where do you need me?"

"Get off the highway at junction eleven. Follow the rail tracks."

* * *

Once, she remembered, Konoha had been a prosperous city. At night, she'd looked down from the house on the mountain and seen all the pretty lights in all the windows of all the houses.

"This is greatness," she remembered her father saying. "And one day, it will all be yours."

* * *

Their escape went like this: a bridge, moving headlights and the screech of tires on cement.

Sakura threw her door open before the car stopped and flung herself onto the road, landing in a roll which immediately pushed her to her feet by the rail.

"Naruto!"

He was on his feet and staggering towards her, clutching his side in agony as the car kept on going, swerving wildly with no one at the wheel.

"Shit," he gasped. "Shit, shit, _shit._"

The car hit the barrier, spun one-eighty degrees and kept on spinning back the way it'd come. Somewhere behind them, the roar of Hidan's entourage was getting closer.

"Come on," she shouted at him, climbing over the side of the bridge, gun in hand. "Before we miss it!"

"I'm kind of _dying _Sakura-chan!"

The car collided with one of Hidan's; she took aim and fired as it went up in violent flames. Naruto was barely holding onto the railings, his hands slippery with blood. The train tracks below suddenly seemed a long way to fall.

_Ten, _she thought frantically, counting down, _nine, eight, seven…_

A ricochet of bullets rained down on them, rebounding off the metal railings. Pain exploded in her leg. Hidan was close enough to see now, she saw him kick the door of his vehicle open, machine gun already in hand…

_Close enough to kill. One good shot and they're another member down…_

"Sakura!"

The train came soaring out of the tunnel beneath them, and she wasn't sure if Naruto slipped, or jumped.

_Just one bullet, _she thought, but the train kept going and Naruto had landed but he wasn't moving,

and –

Sakura let go.

The wind whistled around her sharply, like tiny knives scratching against her skin. Hidan had reached the railings, and he was shouting at her, shouting profanities she couldn't hear –

Sakura hit the train roof hard, all the breath slamming out of her in one gasp, before she rolled to a stop, fingers digging wildly into the metal.

Looking up, she tried to aim, but Hidan and the bridge were already fading into the distance.

* * *

Trembling, she moved through the streets wearing a stolen coat, the hood pulled up over her distinctive red hair. Sometime during her uncomfortable encounter with Kabuto, it had started to rain, and it came sloshing down on her now, soaking through her shoes and splattering against the lenses of her glasses until it was hard to see.

But she had a gun in her pocket, and a credit card shoved down her bra from where she'd filched it off the body. In all honesty, she hadn't cared two fucks about the cigar – she _hated _smoking – but it gave her an ample opportunity to swipe it from right under Pretty Boy's nose.

Uchiha Sasuke was looking pretty damn fine for a guy seven-years-dead. Of course, there had been whispers, she remembered, whispers she was never supposed to overhear, but that was her job, wasn't it?

Dance and pout, and let them slide fingers over her naked flesh. Information has always been her currency, and she'd long ago found that no one held their tongue in front of a dumb whore, especially one they'd paid for.

Coming to a crossroads, she stopped and looked around nervously. It was very quiet, no cars following her shadow yet, men with guns and knives and a very particular way of making girls like her scream.

_He'll find me, _she thought, _Kabuto was his good right hand. Fuck, fuck, _fuck –

She hoped Sasuke'd had the good sense to hide the body somewhere and buy them both some time, but from what she'd seen of the rage in his dark eyes, it seemed more likely that he'd set up an even more gruesome scene for Orochimaru to find.

The years had been kind to his looks, perhaps, but not to anything else. There was no trace of the kind boy she'd once known in his eyes – and no recognition, either.

That was good. It stung, but it was much better this way, much more convenient. She couldn't have him going back and telling tales to the people she'd left behind, even if there was a part of her – and not a small part either – that wanted to scream the whole truth out and go with him to Konoha. To go home.

_I can never go home._

There was a phone box on the corner of the street. It was much too exposed for her liking, a death trap for her, if any of Orochimaru's appeared at the wrong moment, but she needed to hear his voice.

Her hand shook as she lifted the phone and dialled. Her other hand clenched around the gun, taking comfort in its heavy weight, how quickly she could turn and shoot if need be.

The phone seemed to ring forever.

"'Ello?"

Her heart stuttered with relief, her knees wobbled. Karin leaned her head against the glass and allowed herself to breathe.

"Suigetsu? It's me."

* * *

Kumo was only a three hour drive away from Konoha, but even with the accelerator slammed flat to the floor, it felt like much longer. Sasuke dove with the window down, one hand on the wheel, a cigarette between his teeth – no music, but the rush of the highway streaming past was loud enough. It was Shisui's car, the only thing he'd left behind after some bastard splattered his brains across the floor of a car park elevator two months ago.

Of course, he knew it wasn't just _some bastard _who was responsible. Seven years was a long time, but not long enough for Akatsuki to forget them, it seemed.

"Che."

His knuckles whitened around the wheel slowly. The itch of the hunt was in his veins, but this time it was different, fiercer, bloodier.

"Be patient," he remembered Shisui telling him, as they trained, and fled, and killed. "The day will come, Sasuke. And we will go home."

_Home. _

The word felt foreign on his tongue, a concept he had no idea how to believe in anymore. Home was destroyed in a spray of blood, a ricochet of gunshots meeting their marks, his mother's last breath; the desperate, wet gurgle at the back of her throat.

Signposts sped past, signalling his approach to the city he hadn't seen in seven years. Sasuke didn't even remember leaving, not really – the massacre was sickeningly vivid, but everything before or after was vague in a way that he found frightening.

He inhaled one last time, and tossed the cigarette to the wind. The florescent glow of the city was visible now, somewhere to his right, and the air took on a strange, sulphuric smell.

"_You don't know what it's like, do you?" _Kushina's brittle voice came back to him suddenly. _"You didn't have to watch the kingdom fall._"

As he reached Konoha's outer limits, Sasuke began to understand just what she might have meant. In his memories, it was still the city of lights, but what he'd returned to was drudgery and darkness. Lines of prostitutes beckoned to him on every corner, his headlights showing their thin wrists and starved, frenzied smiles. He saw men with knives up their sleeves and guns in their jackets, heard domestics in the housing blocks he drove past, saw drunks leering outside bars at everyone who passed.

And as he drove, the sound of sirens started up somewhere, dull and annoyingly persistent. He wondered who ran the police now, if there was even a force at all, or if the cops who patrolled the streets these days were just imposters settled comfortably in Akatsuki's pocket.

That slow burn in his chest came slinking back, hard and impossible to ignore. Sasuke wished for a glass of scotch, another cigarette, a gun – anything to drown the terrible rage out.

It wouldn't work, though. Nothing ever did. Vengeance was the stalking shadow at his back, the bloody ghosts which lingered by his side, whispering.

What could ever succeed in drowning out that much red?

_Haruno Sakura. _

That was the name he'd been given, and he clung onto it like a lifeline, hearing a promise in those six syllables of the two things he craved most.

But for now? For now, the bar ahead was calling his name, and Sasuke wanted a drink. Perhaps he'd even find some answers while he was there.

* * *

It was dark in the bar, and the air stank of smoke and spirits. _The Legendary Sucker _had closed hours ago, their patrons stumbling out into the night with their pockets a great deal emptier than when they came in, but the inside of the building was far from still.

Sakura refilled her shot glass and downed it in one go, slamming the bottle back down on the bar.

"I see you helped yourself to my collection," Shikamaru said, returning from the private office at the back of the building with a first aid kit in his hand.

"All vodka is shit," she drawled. "But it's a great disinfectant."

There was still blood on her hands, her clothes. When she glanced in the mirror above the bar, she saw it was even on her face, rust red and flaking.

He eyed the ashtray she'd set on the stool beside her – and the two bloody bullet casings inside them. "You were supposed to wait for me to do it."

Sakura shrugged noncommittally, but let him approach and start patching her up. She'd taken a shot to the shoulder and her left leg – only flesh wounds, but still, they hurt like a bitch.

But her wounds were nothing to Naruto's.

When Hidan faded from sight, she'd clung to the roof of the speeding train and shimmied her way to his unconscious side, throwing herself over him in an attempt to keep the blond from slipping off.

Kakashi had been there at the next station waiting for them, and he'd helped her carry Naruto from the roof, over the tracks, to the white van waiting for them, the engine still running. She'd spent the whole ride back terrified both that he would die, or that Akatsuki would appear on their tails and start the chase anew.

They'd pulled into the gambling house unaccosted, however, and Naruto had been taken into the small theatre Tsunade kept in the basement for just these occasions. He'd been in there ever since, and Sakura was half out of her mind with worry.

"He'll be okay," Shikamaru murmured, seemingly reading her mind. He bent over her thigh, wrapping the wound carefully with crisp, white bandages, and she wondered if this was how he was with Ino – a mix of gentle and intent. The touch of his fingertips against her skin made her shiver.

"All that blood," she said, watching him, "for _nothing_."

He glanced up at her with dark eyes. "We will find her, Sakura. She's is too important for them to kill; they know her value as a hostage."

"They will now."

In truth, they couldn't have targeted anyone better; Naruto's feelings for the heiress made him more reckless than ever in the face of her abduction. The bloodbath he'd made of the warehouse earlier showed his hand. Where his loved ones were concerned, _poker face _wasn't so much a concept as words that went in one ear and out the other.

They wouldn't kill Hinata, not yet. Sakura hated to think how tonight's stunt would affect her treatment, though; despite herself, her thoughts drifted back to that dimly lit room, the static of a TV running in the background, while ropes burned into her wrists.

"_Pretty little girl…"_

A shudder ran through her, and this time it had nothing to do with Shikamaru's touch.

"Sakura?"

She shook off his concern, the way she would a bothersome dog, and reached for the vodka again.

"I'm cold," she said, careful to keep her voice soft and calm – to show no sign of weakness, even in front of him.

"Don't wait up all night," he said, getting to his feet and unrolling his shirt sleeves. "It's gonna be a nightmare tomorrow as it is."

"I have to," she murmured. "Shika, you and me – we're all he has left. I'm not going anywhere til I know he's okay."

He watched her for a long moment, then sighed and moved behind the bar. "For fucks sake," he groaned, plucking the vodka out of her reach. "If we're doing an all-nighter, we're at least drinking the good stuff."

She had to grin, then – sharp and unhappy, the smile of a girl drowning in blood. "I think I'm a bad influence on you, Nara."

"And Tsunade was a bad influence on _you._"

He slung a tumbler of whisky over the counter and she toasted him. "To being picked off, one fucker at a time."

"Cheerful as always," he said, but drank anyway. It burned as it went down, and warmed her insides in a way which had nothing at all to do with hope.

She must have fallen asleep at the bar – Shikamaru, too – because out of the dark, Sakura was woken by thunderous booms. Immediately, her hand flew to the gun at her hip.

Someone was knocking at the door.

* * *

_tbc_

* * *

**notes: went to Laos and taught Buddhist monks English. also, passed my second year of university.**

**notes2: hence the delay in updating. **

**notes3: ALL THE GOOD SHIT HAPPENS IN THE MANGA WHENEVER I GO AWAY WHAT THE FUCK. **

**don't forget to reviewwwwww. I want to know what y'all are thinking. **


	3. kill it, kid

**chapter title: kill it, kid **

**summary: it's been seven years since the Akatsuki took over, but in the dark underbelly of Konoha's criminal underworld, a silent war still rages. As the heirs of the cities leaders are picked off one by one in a bloody rebellion, Uchiha Sasuke returns with vengeance in his heart for the one who killed his family.**

**dedication: the Holy Trinity, bitches. and if you don't know who they are yet, shame on you.**

* * *

_Dead End Street_

* * *

The gun – a common but reliable 9mm – was steady in her hand as the knock came for the third time. There were arms stashed all over the back rooms of _The Legendary Sucker _for situations like this, when the unknown came calling at unexpected hours. Sakura had plucked this one from the underside of Tsunade's desk and stood concealed behind a heavy filing cabinet, locked, loaded and ready to fire.

"I've got you covered," she whispered and Shikamaru nodded, leaning against the solid metal door.

"Deer," he called, one hand on a pistol of his own.

"Fate," a muffled, but familiar voice answered. They exchanged wary glances – what was _Neji _doing out in the back streets of Konoha at this time? Meetings between the Hyuuga family and themselves were always well planned in advance, their communication careful on both sides.

Hinata had been missing for forty-eight hours and already everything was going to hell.

"Shit," Shikamaru murmured, flinging back the heavy bolts on the door and opening it just wide enough for Neji to squeeze past him and out of the rain. Sakura didn't drop her aim until the door was bolted once more, and Shikamaru had searched their friend for wires or concealed weapons.

"Protocol," Sakura murmured, as the brunette dripped water onto the floor, forming a puddle beneath his feet.

"Of course," he replied coolly, pale eyes locked on hers as Shikamaru methodically patted him down.

"He's clean."

Exhaling quietly, she moved out from behind the cabinet. "You're out and about late. Or early, some might say."

He had the look of a man who'd been up all night, bruise-like shadows under his eyes, tension sprung in the set of his jaw, the rigidity of his shoulders.

"They sent us a tape."

Shikamaru, already leading them back to the bar, stiffened. Sakura could only imagine what gruesome scene was filling his head, what awful thing Neji and his family had already been forced to watch.

"You brought it with you?" she asked, pausing mid-limp. She could see the scotch where she'd left it on the bar, but right now they all needed clear heads.

_They need me to be strong, _she thought, remembering Naruto bleeding out on a steel table, remembering the bruises around Ino's wrists and thighs, remembering Tsunade's face when Karin didn't come back. _Fall apart later. _

"I brought it," he said. "My Uncle hasn't seen it yet, and I – I rather hope he won't have to."

"Show it to me." A video could reveal all sorts of things about Hinata's location; with any luck it might be somewhere she or Ino recognised. She would have asked Karin, too, if she'd still been alive…

But she wasn't, she was gone, she was _dead _and they were running out of time.

"_Show it to me,_" she repeated vehemently, when neither Neji nor Shikamaru moved. "Or do I have to go and fucking wake Tsunade up?"

She pushed past them into the office and opened the sleeping laptop on the desk. Neji followed her, expression brittle as he produced a disk from his pocket. Water was dripping into his eyes from his soaked hair, making him look younger than he had in years – younger and more vulnerable. The careful mask he wore day after day had been stripped from him somehow.

Placing the disk in the drive, she took a seat in Tsunade's chair, feeling Neji's warm breath hit the back of her neck as he bent over her, both of them fixated on the screen.

It started with a close-up of Hinata's face, eyes covered with a blindfold. She was in a dark room, tied to a chair, hair hanging long and limp over her pale shoulders. There were no voices, no accusations, no threats – only muffled whimpers which slowly turned into screams.

The video was ten minutes long.

By the end her hands were clenched into fists in her lap and Neji was breathing raggedly, face buried in his shaking hands. Retaliation was swift, and vindictive, it seemed – but with Akatsuki, she'd always known that.

"You say this came tonight?" she asked, her voice sharp and too loud – oh god, she was all edges and steel but he needed someone to be gentle right now, he needed warm arms around him and someone who knew how to speak in murmurs.

"An hour and a half ago. I found it in the study, just sitting there on the desk in a plain envelope. It wasn't there before dinner."

"Well fuck," said another voice – Tsunade was leaning in the doorway, grey-faced and haggard. Clearly the surgery had taken its toll, but it was more than that, Sakura knew. When Karin disappeared two months ago, it had shaken something deep inside her from which she hadn't yet recovered. Shikamaru stood behind her, arms crossed.

"Tsunade-sama," Neji got to his feet hastily.

"Shikamaru, take this poor boy to the bar and get him a drink. Something strong."

When they were alone, her mentor shut the door carefully and looked at Sakura with sharp eyes.

"Did you recognise anything?"

Her hands were trembling, but she refused to acknowledge it. "Honestly? It's too damn dark to tell. I couldn't get a visual on any of the little fuckers, but that alone rules Hidan out. He's sadistic enough for torture, but this isn't about hurting Hinata, it's about punishing _us._"

"Whatever it's about, we have to go carefully from now on. Tonight was too rushed, too sloppy – what were you thinking letting him barrel into one of Kakuzu's joints, guns blazing? I didn't approve that raid."

"Look he was going to go with, or without me," she said bluntly. "You and I know it was fucking stupid, but you try telling Naruto not to do something and see if he listens. I figured at least if I went along with it I could get him out of there alive."

Tsunade looked disgusted. "You were supposed to wait."

"And now Hinata's suffering cos of us, is that what you're saying?" She was deeply, irrationally angry – never had she spoken back to her mentor like this, not once in all the years since Akatsuki took the city. "That's bullshit, and you know it. Haven't you seen what they do to their girls? What they did to Karin, what they do to Ino?" _What they did to me_?

"Sakura-"

"No! I don't have to listen to this shit, Tsunade, it's a waste of both our fucking time."

She ejected the disk and stood up, struggling to pull back the furious tirade stirring inside her. Her hands were still trembling, Hinata's screams still ringing in her ears. She could still smell Naruto's blood saturating the air as she raced down the highway.

_There was another option, _she thought, slamming the door behind her. _You're the one who refused to take it. _

"Sakura?" The boys looked around as she retreated down the hallway, but she ignored them, slinging a jacket over her shoulders and trying to focus on something other than how much walking hurt. Tucking the disk into her jacket, she took the stairs to the garage.

It was dark down there, most of the lights out save for the stark white bulb hanging over Kiba's workstation. The smell of grease and petrol made her anger subside a little, but in its place she found tears burning in her eyes.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Sakura blinked hastily, striding forwards to the motorcycle parked in the furthest corner of the garage.

"Where are you going?" Shikamaru asked, disapproval evident in his voice. Glancing back, she saw the conflict on face about whether or not to try and stop her, the way she'd tried to stop Naruto.

"They sent us a tape," she said, picking up the red helmet she favoured. "I'm going to find someone who can decipher it."

She pulled the helmet over her head and caught the thigh holster he threw at her, strapping it around her uninjured leg before straddling the bike. Dutifully, he opened the garage door for her and the sound of the rain came crashing in.

"You think he can find something in it?" he asked, eyebrow raised. Curiosity had drawn him closer, their shared intellect a pull which kept them constantly orbiting each other.

Sakura turned the key in the ignition and felt the bike roar to life beneath her. Kicking the stand, she revved the engine and tried to push her fury away.

"I think he's the only one who can."

Then she released the clutch, pulled the throttle back and sped out into the darkened city streets. The road was wet beneath the tires, but with every increase in speed she felt that she was untouchable, as if it really was possible to outrun the terrible things she didn't want to remember.

* * *

The motel was dirt cheap, but Sasuke didn't expect any better. In all the long years on the run, he and Shisui had stayed in much worse places – Oto, especially, had some really grim holes in the wall. Kumo had been better for the most part, a city which respected their need to stay anonymous. They'd never stayed in one place for longer than a month or two, though, never put down roots and picked somewhere new to call home.

No, home had always been here in this wretched, once-beloved city, no matter how much Sasuke wished he could purge the memories of it from his soul for good. Konoha was the only place he'd ever been happy.

Konoha was the place where he'd lost everything. Returning and taking back their city had always been the goal Shisui steered them towards.

"When the time is right," he'd say, eyes growing dark and distant with secrets he never chose to share, like when that time would be.

_You waited too long, _Sasuke thought, lying on his back with one arm pillowing his head, a cigarette in his mouth as he listened to the night time sounds of the city. A helicopter was flying somewhere overhead, lingering in the area like a particularly annoying wasp, and he could hear, too, the sound of trains rattling past the motel, unable to drown out the rhythmic thump of a bed hitting the wall as the couple in the next room fucked.

Somewhere in Konoha the people who killed his family were still breathing.

He tried not to think of it, but it was an awareness which was impossible to ignore. Just knowing it was true made the blood freeze in his veins and his fingers itch for the feel of a gun in his hand, ready to squeeze the trigger and put a bullet or seven in each of their heads.

'_Don't do anything reckless, kiddo,' _he could imagine his cousin saying. _'You're so close to finally ending this. Don't blow it now.' _

"I'm not a fuckin' idiot," Sasuke muttered, taking a long drag and tasting acrid smoke at the back of his tongue. Konoha was not the city he remembered; the game had grown since he left the board, and he had no idea where the pieces stood anymore. Knowledge was power, and one he didn't have right now.

For that he needed help.

For that, he needed Haruno Sakura – whoever she was. He'd made a few surreptitious enquiries in the bars he frequented that night, but no one seemed to know anything of value.

"I dunno man," some guy said – a trucker with a face unworthy of remembering. "Haruno Kizashi used to live here, but they killed him years ago. Him and his wife."

The name sounded vaguely familiar the more Sasuke thought of it; an echo from the days of glamorous parties and elegant dinners his parents always seemed to attend. So far it was the only link he had.

If Kushina had set him off on a fucking wild goose chase there would be hell to pay. He wondered idly if Orochimaru had caught up with her yet, and how she was connected to all this. She said she'd been spying on the Puppet Master, but for whom?

_Or was she actually spying _for _him? _a nasty voice asked. Now that he thought about it, Sasuke wasn't sure if Kushina had answered his question, or her own.

He sat up abruptly, flinging the butt to the floor and reaching for the gun he'd stashed under the pillow. Paranoia stole over him like a shadow so that every small noise made his heart jump in his chest, hand aiming in the direction of the rickety door, the large window which exposed him.

If Kushina had been spying for the Puppet Master, than Akatsuki already knew he was here. And they would come for him.

"_Shit._"

He threw himself flat against the wall, watching the light beyond the curtains, just waiting for the flash of headlights pulling up outside. He had to get out of here, and quickly. Maybe he was just being overly cautious, seeing unconfirmed threats in every shadow, but he'd learned quickly that it was the only way to stay alive.

The day you let your guard down was the day you died. Shisui, two months dead, was a painful reminder of what happened when you forgot the unavoidable truth; that nowhere was safe until Akatsuki were destroyed.

Gun gripped tightly in his hand he slipped along the wall and into the bathroom. On the ground floor, the window looked out on a back alley between the motel and the railway. Keeping the light off, he peered out into the darkness and scanned it for people lurking in the shadows – but it looked like a clean exit. The room key was in his pocket, knife hidden in his right boot. He was out the window and hurtling into the early morning before he had a chance to reconsider. Down the street, a twenty-four-hour diner beckoned him forward with its glowing florescent lights. It wasn't until he was stood at the door that he realised it looked…familiar somehow.

* * *

"I hate that I never get to see you," Kiba murmured against her throat, gently nipping her skin with his teeth. There would be marks there tomorrow, but no matter how many times she told him not to leave evidence, he ignored her. It wasn't that Ino minded particularly, but clients didn't like seeing another man's work on her pale skin.

"It's my job, sweetie," she said, arching her back as his head nestled lower and lower, rough palms sliding up past her waist. His hair felt unexpectedly fine against her fingertips and she tangled her hands in it. "You know that."

He looked up at her with dark eyes, a familiar anger smouldering at the back of them. "None of those fuckers make you feel the way _I _do."

Ino was very careful not to roll her eyes. "I think you're missing the point," she murmured, grinding against him and flipping her long hair over her shoulder. "I do what I do because I have to." _And because I'm good at it. _

His hand moved to cup her rear possessively as she dipped down and pressed her lips to his, if only to get him to shut up. She liked Kiba, she really did, but this was not a conversation Ino wanted to have right now. Or ever, actually.

He deepened the kiss, pulling the shirt from her shoulders and tossing it on the floor. A pleased murmur caught in her throat and she rocked against him, feeling his bare skin against hers. All day she'd been waiting for this, for the distraction she so desperately needed. She wanted the bad things out of her head for a while.

A hand twined in her hair, tilting her head back to expose the long line of her throat.

"I don't like it," he growled against her skin, hot breath making her shiver.

"It's just dancing, babe."

Ino knew he didn't believe her, not really. Up there on the stage, in costume, she shone like a star. Her legs were longer, her eyes brighter, lips redder – and so kissable – that it drove men wild when she moved, slow, fast, furious, sensual, oh yes, she could do it all. Men were so stupid where a pretty face was involved.

She was such a prize even her manager kept his hands to himself, for the most part, though she saw a deep hunger in his eyes which she was careful to keep burning. The other girls weren't so lucky.

"You move like a dream, sweetheart," he drawled. "Stick around and I'll see to it _he _knows who you are."

Eyes lowered demurely, she'd flashed him her megawatt smile and thanked him with a purr in her voice which promised a reward.

(One day, she would see him choke on his own blood and laugh.)

No one was going to fuck up all the hard work she'd put into this over the past year, not even Kiba.

He was pretty and wild, all tattoos and snarling grins which made her pulse flutter, but Ino had been raised a soldier just like the rest of them. She used the weapons which were available to her.

Shoving him back onto the bed, Ino unclasped her bra and thought of the five different ways she could kill him right now. Snap his neck, perhaps. Tear his jugular open with the switchblade concealed in her cuff bracelet. Asphyxiation.

Kiba looked up at her between his lashes, fierce and wanting – falling into a different kind of trap than the one she usually sprang.

"You're beautiful, you know that?"

The silence didn't swallow the words up, didn't make them disappear. Somehow it made it worse that she knew he really meant it.

_No, _she thought, _no, don't say that. You're not supposed to think I'm beautiful. That's not what this is._

"Shut up," she breathed harshly, snaking her hand down to the button on his jeans. "And fuck me."

* * *

"You look tired, honey," the waitress said, a brunette with bruise-like circles under her eyes and a thick scar on the side of her face. "Can I get you another coffee?"

Sasuke, playing with the silver lighter in his pocket, nodded brusquely. "Black, no sugar."

"Coming right up."

The place was quiet, still in the early morning lull before the breakfast rush, but he didn't mind that. It was almost peaceful, and from his seat by the window he had a perfect view of anyone stopping by his motel up the street.

Right now, though, he was more preoccupied with staring around him at the dinner itself. It was definitely on the dingy side of décor, in need of a fresh paint job and some new tiles. In fact, it looked exactly as it had seven years ago, only more tired.

The waitress came back with the coffee pot and refilled his cup. "You know," she murmured, "you look kind of familiar, sweetie."

At that, he looked at her hard and realised that seven years ago, perhaps, she was probably a very pretty teenage girl.

"I used to come here with my brother," he said, weighing his words carefully. "Years and years ago."

Against her will it seemed, her hand started to shake and her eyes widened with recognition. He fingered the gun in his other pocket carefully, watching to see what she would do.

Getting her emotions under control, she put the coffee pot down carefully and took the seat opposite him.

"Itachi's little brother," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "Sasuke-kun."

He didn't say anything, only a ripple of pain tearing through him at his dead brother's name.

"Do you remember me, Sasuke-kun?"

He did now, the pretty girl who worked here on weekends and gave Itachi free refills when he smiled at her. Sometimes she even snuck Sasuke a portion of fries when her father wasn't looking.

"Ayame."

"Yeah," she said, voice breaking as she reached her hand across the table towards him. "We all thought – we all thought you were _dead._"

The scar on her face was terrible, illuminated by the glare of the streetlights outside. He didn't want to look at it, the mark which aged her prematurely and took away the laughing girl from his childhood. He didn't want to know who did it.

"I'm not."

Hastily, she wiped her tears away. "Where have you been? I thought – it's not safe here, you must know that, I mean…"

"Been around," he answered evasively. "You know."

She shook her head at him like he was crazy. "I'm so happy to see you, I really am. But you shouldn't have come back, it's not safe in Konoha anymore."

"I know," he said. "But I got unfinished business to take care of."

Ayame didn't scoff at him like he was expecting, or beg him not to do it. Instead her face went very still and she pulled her hand back.

_Kill her, _a voice whispered in his head. _You told her too much, she can't be trusted, what if she tells them –_

"I can't persuade you to leave, can I?"

He shook his head. Ayame let out a slow, heavy breath and looked out the window at the early morning traffic.

"Then you gotta kill them, Sasuke, all of them. Otherwise they'll kill _you._"

He knew that, knew it from the moment he found Shisui's brains splattered on the elevator floor. It was time to do or die, finally.

"There's no one else left," he said, wishing somehow, that the ghost of the girl who smiled at his brother could somehow understand. "They killed everyone."

Ayame bit her lip and worried it between her teeth for a moment, like she was teetering on the edge of a secret. Slowly, she reached a hand out and brushed it against his cheek, the way his mother used to when he was small.

"No," she said softly. "Not everyone."

Narrowing his eyes at her, he drew out a cigarette and lit it between his teeth. Ayame looked pained.

"I'm lookin' for someone," he said, inhaling hard and fast because this – t his was too much, too close to the boy he'd been, and the only wall he could put between them was one of acrid smoke.

"This is a no-smoking joint."

"Do I look like I give a fuck?" he exhaled, relishing the burn at the back of his throat, in his chest and the look of hurt on her face most of all.

"I guess not."

"Like I said, I'm lookin' for someone. You help me, I'll get outta your hair."

She just looked at him with sad eyes. "Go on."

"I was told to find a chick called Haruno Sakura. Got any idea who might know who she is, where to find her?"

Ayame smiled humourlessly. "I can do one better than that," she told him. "I can take you to her."

* * *

_tbc_

* * *

**notes: priorities, what priorities**

**notes2: ALSO GO READ THESE FICS: Full Throttle by JinnySkeans and Fragments of Time by xfucktheglasses because they are fabulous and so is their writing. yeah. **

**OH AND REVIEW BECAUSE THAT TENDS TO MAKE ME MOTIVATED AND SHIT.**


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